dreams come calling

my language gets poetic
when I’ve been reading poetry
and the dreams come calling

it’s not so much a matter of how
but why
to do this work

when dreams come calling and I’m
full of them
sex and sighs and sleep

someone’s eyes
or someone else’s smile
but always those particular ones

i look at my fingers and I wonder
what I could do
with what I have

and yet again
I make a vow
to finish this goddamn essay

but my heart is bigger than my brain
metaphorically speaking
and the dreams come calling

July ’07


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This blog is the collection of my poetry and prose, in chronological order from most recent to oldest.

Constructive critique is actively encouraged!

I am usually singing words as well as writing them, and make lots of other art. You can find me & my other art at any of the below links. x

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All content on this blog © Rebecca Tilley, 2003-present

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